How One Became Three
by ceredonia
Summary: Broken into three parts, each from one point of view-York, Wash, North. Porn, some plot. Playing with first-person perspective.
1. York

**Was originally going to be for a Small Fandom Bang but decided it was too much fun so I'm gonna share it now and do something else for that. **  
**This is my first time writing porn. Please be gentle (bow chicka bow wow). Will eventually be York/North/Wash.**

* * *

**Part One – York**

_I really have no idea how it got to all this._

_I thought it was just going to be a one-off thing, a joke that lasted a little too long, something to make the others uncomfortable, but then…it didn't stop._

_And I don't know if I _want_ it to stop._

* * *

"Fucking _rain_."

It was coming down in _sheets_, soaking everything in seconds. Little puddles were scattered all across the pavement. The gutters looked like miniature rivers, complete with boat-shaped leaves riding to their inevitable doom. And standing just out of reach, barely underneath the bus stop overhang, was me, holding two bags of groceries and scared to leave the safety of the green metal cube.

I thought I was alone, but an arm brushed against mine and I jumped, looking to my right to see another young man standing there, a bright purple closed umbrella in one hand, the other curved and resting against his brow, just underneath his platinum blonde hair, his head tilted up to stare at the clouds above. "Man, this is really something. I thought it was supposed to be clear today."

"Yeah, me too," I replied. "Weather report is usually pretty accurate."

"Must be a freak storm. Are you waiting for the bus?" he asked.

"No, I just live a few blocks away," I said, shaking my head. "Didn't think it'd be raining, so I didn't drive, and my umbrella's in my car."

"Oh. Want me to walk with you?" He held up the umbrella, shaking it a little. "I was just out on a walk, it's cool."

"No, thank you. I'll just wait for it to let up." It wasn't that he didn't look trustworthy; I just didn't want to owe some stranger a favor. That sort of thing never ended well, at least in movies and television shows.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks, though."

We stood in silence as the rain crashed down around us, drowning out the sounds from the cars idling in the street, backed up for blocks due to the flooding of the intersections. They were probably filled with people eager to get home to close windows or turn off sprinklers—it had been hot and arid for the past week, which meant that water conservation laws were in effect, though most lawns I noticed clearly didn't care.

"Well, if you're sure, I guess I'll get going. I've got some work to do." The man smiled as he snapped open the umbrella, watching it pop out into a dome in front of him. He held it out and the liquid bounced off the taut fabric, splattering to the ground. Lifting it up overhead, he stepped out into the downpour, and I watched as the shield of purple helped form a blanket of rain in a circle around his body.

"Uh, wait a second," I heard myself say before I thought it. I was already halfway out in the rain and he rushed over, raising the umbrella at an angle so I would be covered. It wasn't completely effective and I felt my sleeve cling to my skin as it was instantly soaked. I drew it towards my body, the grocery bag knocking against my waist, and shook my head, trying to laugh. "Sorry. I just…I sort of want to go home, and I don't think this is going to let up anytime soon."

"Hey, I'm the one that offered. Let me," he said, reaching for the closer of my two grocery bags. I loosened my grip on it and his fingers brushed against mine as the plastic transferred between us. His fingertips were soft and I felt my hand tremble slightly at the interaction. "I'm John, by the way. But you can call me North."

"North, huh? Interesting nickname," I said as we fell into step next to each other. I could barely hear my own thoughts under the pounding of the rain against the umbrella. It was just large enough to almost protect the both of us; I could feel my left hand getting wet, still holding the other grocery bag, the water splashing against the plastic to cling to my exposed skin.

"Long story," he replied.

"Oh. Uh, I'm Sean."

"Nice to meet you, Sean."

"Well, I actually go by York," I continued, feeling awkward as hell. "When I was a kid there were three other Sean's in my class, and my teacher gave us nicknames to tell us apart. I got York because I'm from New York."

"That's cute."

I stole a glance to my right and saw that he was smiling. "Yeah, I guess. It kind of stuck."

"At least it's a cute nickname." I could hear the amusement in his voice and I smiled, shrugging. My shoulder knocked against his as I did so.

"Uh, thanks, I guess."

"So, York, what are you doing out in the middle of the day?"

"Just grocery shopping," I replied, raising the bag in my hand an inch. "You?"

"Avoiding work."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a copy editor for a magazine, and I have a pile of articles to proof. I got bored and decided to take a walk, even though most of them are due in a few days." I snuck another look at him and saw that the smile was gone, replaced by a grim look, his lips set in a straight line.

"Oh. That sounds more interesting than what I do. I'm a graphic designer."

"Where do you work?"

"Oh, I freelance," I said, letting a chuckle escape my lips. "I'm not one to get tied down at one place. Hell, I haven't held a steady job in years. I sort of drift around."

"Interesting."

We walked in silence after that, and I nudged his arm when we needed to turn onto a side street. I could see my house up ahead after a few more minutes of walking and nodded in the direction. "I'm just up here."

"Sounds like it's letting up," North said, and I looked around, realizing the downpour wasn't as bad as it had been when we'd started walking.

"Yeah, I guess so." Reaching into my pocket to grab my keys, my arm brushed against his and I instinctively pulled away a little. "Oh, I guess I need my bag."

I reached for it but he pulled his arm away, dangling it in the rain. "At least let me walk you to the door so you don't get soaked," he said, and I shrugged again.

"Sure." We approached the house and I hopped forward a few steps, out from underneath the umbrella but safely making it onto the porch without getting drenched. I unlocked the door and shoved it open, hoping it didn't get stuck in the doorframe since it was hot. It seemed to open fine for once and I stepped inside, dropping my bag on the wooden planks of the entryway. "Here," I said, reaching out for the other bag, seeing that North was still standing on the porch, his umbrella to his side as he shook the water from it.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." He held the bag out and I took it from him, setting it down next to the other one.

I stood in the doorway for a few seconds, watching him shake the rest of the rain from the fabric. "Do you want a drink or something?" I finally said, gesturing for him to come inside. "I mean, the rain's almost done, but I've gotta repay you somehow to letting me crash your umbrella space."

"If you insist." North leaned down and closed the umbrella, setting it against the wall next to the door. He followed me inside and I closed the door behind us.

"I'm gonna change real fast," I said, pointing to my soaked shirt. He nodded and I headed up the stairway next to the door, shucking my shirt as I took the steps two at a time. Dropping the wet fabric on the floor of my room, I grabbed the closest shirt from the closet and tugged it over my head, heading back downstairs as I adjusted the hem.

"In a bit of a hurry?" I heard North say as I approached him standing next to the couch in the living room. I frowned and watched his eyes trail down my chest. "It's inside-out."

"_Oh_. Heh, I wasn't paying attention." Rolling my eyes, I reached for the hem and yanked it back off, fiddling with the shirt to turn it right-side out, checking to make sure the tag was in the proper position. I caught him smirking as I pulled it back on, adjusting it. "Better?"

"Yeah."

"So, I have beer, you want one?" I crooked a finger towards the kitchen and he nodded, following after me, keeping a few feet behind me. Upon reaching the kitchen I bee-lined for the fridge, pulling it open. "Domestic or import?"

"Surprise me," he said. I glanced over my shoulder and narrowed my eyes at him as he settled onto a stool at the counter.

"You seem like a domestic guy to me," I observed, pulling a bottle from a shelf. I grabbed the magnetic bottle opener from the fridge door and popped it open, handing to him. He smiled.

"You nailed it." He took a sip as I grabbed myself a bottle of the same, opening it. I tossed the bottle caps into the trash and leaned against the counter, raising the bottle. He raised his and we tapped them together.

"Cheers," I said, taking a sip.

"Cheers."

"So, do you live around here?"

North shook his head. "I'm probably ten miles or so east. When I take a walk, I really commit."

"Yeah, I guess so. Do you need a ride or anything?"

"I'm fine, thanks. Walking helps clear my head. Besides, you don't get to meet people when driving in cars." He winked at me and I smiled, not sure what to say to that.

"I guess not."

He took another sip and I caught myself staring at his extremely well-defined cheekbones. I felt my cheeks flush as his eyes flickered towards me and quickly turned away, setting my beer down on the counter. "Uh, I've actually got a lot of work to do—"

"I can get out of your way," North said, obviously catching on. He picked up his beer and drained the rest of it quickly, making a satisfied sound as he pulled the now-empty bottle away from his lips. "Thanks again," he said, handing me the bottle. I took it and tossed it into the small recycling bin next to the trash can underneath the sink.

"Not a problem. Are you sure you don't want a ride?"

"Really, I'm fine." He stood up and came around the side of the counter, stopping a couple of feet away from where I was standing. He stuck his hand out and I smiled, taking it in mine, shaking it.

"All right. Get home safe. Nice to meet you."

"You too. I can see myself out."

I nodded and watched him exit the kitchen, hearing the front door open a few seconds later. I listened to it close and glanced to my own beer, still sitting on the counter, neglected, a slight layer of condensation forming on the label.

* * *

I didn't think I'd ever see the guy again, but apparently fate had other things in mind and we ran into each other three weeks later at the grocery store, literally colliding in the frozen food aisle.

"Dude, watch it," I snapped as someone backed into me with their basket, nearly crushing my fingers between the heavy glass door I'd let go of.

"Shit, sorry," someone said. I stood from where I'd been crouched, trying to debate on a flavor of ice cream from the ones available in the case. Catching a glimpse of platinum blonde hair I frowned, tapping the person on the shoulder.

"What, I said I was sorry—oh, hi!" Sure enough, it was North who turned around, the irritated look on his face quickly being replaced with pleased recognition as his eyes widened. "Uh—Sean, right?"

"York," I corrected. "But yes. How are you?"

"Good! Yourself?"

I wiggled my fingers. "Intact, barely. You've gotta watch where you're going with that basket, man."

"I said I was sorry!"

"Eh, it's fine. What are you doing here? I thought you said you lived really far east."

"I do, but—well, okay, this is going to sound stupid." North smiled as he readjusted his grip on his basket. "I saw this brand of ice cream in your bag, and I haven't been able to find it anywhere else. I remembered the logo of the store on the bag and figured I'd try this place. I've actually been here a few times already, I kind of stress-eat," he admitted, looking embarrassed.

I laughed. "What a coincidence, so do I." I pointed to the cookies in my basket and he chuckled, and I saw the skin around his eyes crinkle as his smile grew wider.

"Do you want to get lunch, or are you busy?" he asked, checking his watch.

"I have time. Let me just finish getting my stuff and I'll meet you out front in, what, fifteen minutes?"

"Sounds good." He headed the opposite way down the aisle and I hurried away towards the laundry detergent aisle to get the rest of my groceries, doubling back a second later to grab the ice cream I'd forgotten.

* * *

We started hanging out a lot after that chance encounter at the grocery store. After lunch we exchanged phone numbers, and he actually called me a week later, asking if I wanted to watch a movie. Agreeing, I'd assumed he'd meant at the theater, so when he showed up at my house, DVD in hand, I was a little taken aback.

But sitting next to each other on the couch, legs touching just slightly, his arm draped over the back of the couch just inches from my shoulders, I decided the surprise wasn't really that bad.

* * *

I haven't always been into guys. It's really not about that, anyway. I'm more about the personality of someone than their physical looks. While most of my friends in college were busy chasing after sorority girls, I was hanging out with the science 'nerds,' crushing on the head of the robotics team, a somewhat small young boy with wild blue hair, dyed in a fit of rage after a robot he'd been working on blew up and he had no other outlet to express his anger other than a tin of blue dye and a hatred of his naturally blonde hair. We spent hours sitting in front of schematics as he tried to explain things to me, usually giving up as he lost his concentration due to me running my fingers through his hair, whispering things that I wanted to do to him.

There was also the girl that, I admit, I'm still a little in love with. First job out of college, a bagboy at the large chain supermarket, she was my supervisor, and I was obsessed with her long, vibrant red hair and bright green eyes. Sure, it was probably more of a power thing, seeing as she could have crushed me like a bug (and she did, on a couple of drunken occasions that I'll cherish forever), but underneath all the bravado, she was really sweet and kind and I loved arguing with her over stupid shit that didn't matter. Besides, she had the softest lips I've ever had the pleasure of kissing, she loved it when I tugged on that beautiful scarlet hair, and I was more than willing to oblige.

North and I…it was different. I didn't really know what we were doing. When we brushed up against each other, either by accident or me doing it on purpose, sometimes he recoiled, but sometimes he pressed back. We hung out a lot, but usually at my house, and only occasionally at his apartment (he'd just moved in and claimed it was a mess most of the time, but it seemed clean enough to me the few times I was ever allowed over). Which, honestly, was fine by me—my house had way more space, and usually more food, though North ate a lot when he came over, forcing us to go on shopping trips more often than I was used to.

* * *

"Hey," I said, my fingertips brushing against North's shoulder. We were sitting on my couch, my arm across the back this time, glancing at his feet propped up on the table in front of us. He was eating chips he'd poured into a bowl, and set it down on his lap as he looked up at me, using his other hand to fumble for the remote, pressing pause to halt the movie.

"Yeah?"

"So I'm totally going to sound like a girl here, but I've wanted to ask you a question for a while now." Which was true—it'd been nearly five months since we started hanging out, and while I could appreciate things moving slowly, it was driving me to the edge of my sanity to keep myself calm whenever he was around.

"Uh, okay." He leaned forward and set the bowl of chips on the table, turning to face me. He brought up his knee and folded his hands around it, smiling. "Shoot."

"Are we dating?"

The skin around his eyes wrinkled as his smile grew wider. "_I_ thought we were."

"Then clue me in here—don't people who date actually, you know, _date_?"

"What do you think we're _doing_?"

"Honestly? I don't know." I exhaled and moved my hand down, carefully placing it on top of his hands covering his knee. When he didn't move away, I started spreading his hands apart with my fingers, mingling my hand and one of his together.

"It seems like you _do_."

"No, because it's been months and I don't really know _what_ this is."

North sighed. "How many relationships have you been in?"

"I don't see how that's relevant."

"Just answer the question."

I thought for a moment. "Since I'm not sure how you'd define 'relationship,' I'll go with…more than a dozen."

"Are you including one-night-stands and such?"

"Okay, more like…a couple dozen."

"Okay." North was quiet for a moment. When he finally spoke again, I felt my heartbeat increase. "I'm probably around the same, honestly."

"That's…good?"

"I'm thirty-one and haven't been in a relationship in a while," he said, "but a lot of mine moved too fast, and I got hurt more than I would have liked."

"Well, I'm thirty and I've been single for a couple of years, but I don't see where—"

"The point being, how many of those relationships actually lasted longer than a few months?"

I frowned. "I don't know…probably not many."

"What was the one that lasted the longest?"

"That would be…Jasika."

"Tell me about her."

I laughed. "How much am I going to owe you for the therapy session?"

"Sean."

Sighing, I shrugged. "Senior year of college. She was a friend of my roommate, I'd known her for a year or so. I chased after her for probably two months, she finally broke down and we started dating. Lasted nearly a year, and just after we graduated, she dumped me because she was moving across the country for a job."

"And why do you think that you guys lasted so long?"

"Because we were friends first—_ohh_." The reason for his questions finally dawned on me. "I get it now."

North squeezed my hand and I nodded. "Yeah, that's why I haven't pushed very hard. I didn't know if that's how you felt about me or not."

"Well…it _is_," I said quietly, smiling at him. He leaned forward and I could smell his cologne, inhaling deeply to appreciate the scent.

"Then do _you_ think we're dating?" he said in a teasing tone.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think we are." Deciding to just take a chance, I closed the distance between us and pressed my lips to his, half-expecting him to pull away, not really expecting him to push back and let go of my hand, sliding his hands across my waist to settle on my hips. Struggling to gain the upper hand, I parted my lips and slid my tongue across his lower lip, receiving no resistance as it met the tip of his own tongue. I heard him moan and I felt a rush of elation, giving me the confidence to slip my hands up underneath his shirt, pressing against his waist.

"Hang on," he gasped, and my hands froze as I felt my body stiffen.

"I'm sorry," I automatically said, brain kicking into overdrive as I started thinking of excuses to get out of the situation.

"No, it's just—" North shifted and sort of climbed halfway off the couch, getting back up on the cushion a second later, kneeling instead of sitting at the angle he was at before. "My leg was falling asleep."

"_Oh_." I watched as he brought his hands up to rest on my hips again, gripping the waist of my jeans to pull me forward. I fell onto my back as I slid across the couch, suddenly finding myself underneath him, looking up into his eyes, a playful smirk painted across his face. "Hey there," I said lamely, resisting the urge to smack myself in the head, instead moving my hands up to start unbuttoning his slacks. He'd showed up that afternoon at my house looking professional, black slacks and a royal purple button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was as if he'd known that was one of my turn-ons…

"Hey," he breathed, bending down again, and this time I let him have the advantage. I was too focused on trying to shove his pants down around his thighs to really appreciate the swirls he was painting with his tongue across the curve of my neck, and when my fingertips brushed across the bulge in his boxers, I sniggered, getting his attention.

"It's not nice to laugh," he said, sounding hurt.

"No, it's just—fuck, I appreciate you wearing matching boxers," I said, my fingers lightly touching the front of the fabric. "Shows you really care and all that, you know."

"I'll show you how much I care," he replied, laughing as he reached down with one hand, grabbing one of mine to firmly push it inside the waistband of his boxers while his other hand slid down the front of my own pants, his fingers dancing around my own erection. I tilted my head and our lips met again; I pushed with my upper body and caught him off guard, forcing him upwards a bit as I sat up, moving out from underneath him as I noticed he was breathing heavily, his eyes half-lidded.

Having gone from not sure if we were in a relationship to nearly fucking on my couch in the span of ten minutes, I wasn't going to complain about the look of lust in North's face. Unable to stand it any longer, I reached up with my left hand and hooked it behind his head, kissing him deeply as I moved my other hand underneath his boxers, pulling the fabric away. He leaned back and I straddled him, a slight feeling of regret pinging through my chest as his hand pulled out from underneath my waistband to reach up and under my shirt, tweaking my nipple. The regret quickly dissipated and I groaned, wrapping my fingers around his cock, squeezing gently.

"_Fuck_, York," North gasped as my hand worked gently yet quickly, and I couldn't stop myself from grinding against his hips as I stroked him, relishing the ragged moans spilling from his lips. I swept my thumb over the slit, catching a bit of precome that I wanted to lick away, but settled for biting his lower lip. He continued playing with my nipple, pinching it slightly, but I could tell he was already close by the way his hand was distracted, his fingers scratching along my chest, his breathing becoming erratic.

"Tell me what you want," I whispered, feeling his mouth working to form words in between kisses.

"I want—_fuck_, I'm gonna—"

"You gonna come for me?" I said, an edge to my voice that I couldn't keep out; my own cock was trapped painfully in my jeans, but this was his time, not mine.

"_York_—" A second later I watched his eyes squeeze shut and felt a familiar warm sensation in my hand as he released, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. Hips bucked against my hand as I worked him through it, kissing the corner of his mouth, still whispering words that I couldn't even remember the moment I said them. Finally his body went slack and I smiled against the crook of his neck, chuckling as his breathing returned to somewhat normal levels.

"Was that good for you?" I asked, my hand still wrapped around his cock. I didn't really know where else to put it.

"Uh. Yeah. _Good_." North could barely form words, it seemed, and his eyes finally opened, a smile spreading across his face. "I think it's your turn."

"No, I'm—really, it's fine," I defended, awkwardly climbing off the couch, pulling my hand out of his boxers. I heard the elastic snap back into place as I reached for a spare paper towel from our earlier lunch, wiping my hand as clean as I could get it. I looked back to see him looking upset, tugging his pants back on.

"Are you…upset?" he asked, and I thought for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to answer when I didn't really know what I wanted to say.

"No, not _upset_," I replied, running my clean hand through my hair, scratching the back of my neck. "Just… confused. And kind of concerned."

"About what?"

"That I just _really_ fucked things up."

I watched him stand up and take a step towards me, shaking his head. "You're fine." His hands were on my shoulders, pulling me in for a kiss before I realized what was happening. I vaguely registered one of his hands moving down my arm but I definitely felt his fingers digging underneath the waist of my jeans a second later, wiggling past the band of my own boxers. Though it had taken the opportunity to soften a bit, my cock still twitched at the touch of his fingers rubbing along the length.

"North—"

"Shh." He put a finger to my lips and kissed around it, moving his hand away at the same time his other one began to stroke me, and I felt his tongue slip between my lips, massaging my own tongue. I melted into his touch and we continued kissing as his free hand slid down my chest and caught the waistband of my jeans and boxers, shoving them downwards. I felt them pool around my ankles and closed my eyes, trying not to moan too loudly even though his fingers were just about the most talented thing I'd ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

I realized we were no longer kissing a moment after we stopped but as I opened my eyes, I saw a flash of his blonde hair near my waist. Warm lips were suddenly pressed to the tip of my cock and I let out a loud gasp, white spots flashing in front of my eyes just briefly. I moaned his name as his mouth enveloped my cock, his hand sliding up my thigh to lightly brush his fingertips against the underside of my balls, causing me to moan even more loudly and incoherently. Unable to help myself, I bucked my hips and felt the back of his throat constricting around me. That alone was nearly enough to push me over the edge but I fisted my hands in North's hair and pulled out halfway, trying to give him some air, and was met with humming that vibrated my entire cock, turning my knees to jelly.

"Hmm?" he murmured, wrapping his hand around my balls, giving them a firm squeeze.

"_Fuck_!" I shouted, bucking again, feeling his tongue swirling around the shaft. He continued the pace for a minute, occasionally humming, which just caused me to babble random words bookended by his name. After another couple of minutes he pulled off with a pop and grinned up at me.

"Feeling better?"

"_Seriously_?!" I pulled him up by the hair and mashed my lips to his, his hand wrapping around my cock a second later. He continued jacking me off as I moaned into his mouth, promises of blowjobs and fucking and anything I could think of, and within half a minute I was lost, coming into his hand with a shout and a moan mixed together, sagging against him, my face buried in the crook of his shoulder.

"So I guess that's a yes."

"Fuck you," I managed to mutter, laughing as I felt him chuckle.

* * *

It didn't take long to fall into a steady rhythm after that. One of us would invite the other over for lunch, a movie, just to hang out, and most times we would fall into bed, or on the couch, or one time, on the kitchen floor (I'd just mopped and was turned on by North offering to filthy it again).

It had been over a year since my last relationship, and North was amazing at filling that void. We held hands nearly everywhere we went, and even a couple of the checkers at the grocery store knew us by name, we were there so often. North started taking cooking classes and often surprised me by making exotic dishes, and I wasn't about to turn them down, so we had to shop fairly often.

Things seemed to be good for a few months. I was happy.

But, you know, things sort of have a habit of changing when you least expect them to. Even at seemingly normal places…like bookstores.

* * *

**This is going to be a 3-part story, each part from someone else's POV, ending up in Wash/York/North. Next up: North.**


	2. North

**Part 2 – North**

_Sometimes relationships work, and sometimes they don't. I've never really _tried_ that hard before, though. I mean, I'm always committed to the current relationship and sure, some need a little more care than others, but I tend to coast through, keeping things light._

_But with York it's _easy_. It just _works_. I don't need to think too much because we're good for each other, and always seem to be on the same page. I think I'm beginning to lose myself in him, which at one time might have scared me, but now…_

_Well, let's just say that I wasn't expecting _this_._

* * *

"I need a cigarette."

The soft rumble of York's laugh shook my chest. "You don't smoke."

"I think I need to start after _that_."

He laughed again and I smiled. Any time I could make him laugh, I felt a sense of pride swell in my chest. He was always such a joker, and I was never quick on my feet with a comeback, but I was quickly learning to at least hold my own.

"I've really got to get to work now." He started rolling away but I gripped his arm tightly, forcing him to stop. "C'mon, I have a deadline," he whined.

"I don't care. Stay."

"I can't."

"Then go get your laptop and work on it _here_."

"I need my desktop for this one, it's more in-depth."

I sighed and released my grip on his arm. "_Fine_."

"You're such a drama queen."

"Oh my god, I am _not._" I knew he was teasing, but it still annoyed me when he did so.

"Look, just let me go work on it for an hour, two _tops_, and then we'll go get some food, okay?"

I checked the clock next to his bed and nodded. "Sure. What sounds good?"

"Anything but Chinese." I watched him locate his pants on top of the dresser; how they'd gotten there was a mystery, but it made me smile to think back to the events of the past hour.

"All right, I'll think of something."

"What are you going to do?" he asked, tugging on the wrinkled jeans, glancing around for his shirt.

"I don't know. I guess I could get some editing done. I have a client who won't leave me alone and basically needs his hand held throughout the entire process, so I should probably work on his articles."

"Sounds good." York came back over to the bed and half-crawled onto it, leaning a knee against my leg still under the blankets. "Come get me later," he whispered, kissing my forehead. I nodded and watched him climb off the bed, leaving the room.

I leaned back against the headboard and sighed, playing with the sheets, twisting them around my fingers and releasing them after the blood drained from my skin. I wanted to ask York what we were doing, where this was going, but was too afraid to ruin a good thing.

That's what I got for letting myself fall hard and fast for someone. I'd only done it once before, with a guy in college, which imploded after I told him I loved him after two months of fooling around. I really _did_, but he was too closeted to return the sentiment, and dumped me on the spot.

I really hoped it wouldn't be the same with York. I was fairly confident we were already past that point, but I still wanted to talk to him.

Just…not when he was so stressed about work.

* * *

"Hey, what're you up to?"

"Nothing," I replied, pushing open the heavy glass door. "Just stopping at the bookstore to see if I can find something."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" York asked, his tone curious.

"Nothing _you_ need to know about," I teased. I'd been trying to find him this book on graphic design for over a month, with no luck so far. I heard him sigh over the phone.

"Okay, whatever, leave me out of it. As usual."

"Don't be like that."

"Well, I'm depressed!"

"About what?" I asked, waving at the young girl running the counter. She waved back as I headed back towards the arts and computer section of the store.

"You're leaving me out of things!"

"I'll make it up to you, I promise." I made a kissy noise and got a laugh out of him.

"You'd better. Oh, someone's calling me. I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah, see ya."

"Bye." He hung up and I looked at the phone for a minute, finally tucking it into my pocket. I started scanning the shelves, hoping that by a stroke of luck they would actually carry the book in stock, and felt a hand tap my shoulder.

"Can I help you?" a man's voice asked, and I stood up straight, turning around.

"Actually, yes. Could you tell me if you have a particular book in stock?"

"Sure. What's the name?"

I dug into my other pocket for the exact author and title I'd written down and smiled at the man. He looked to be a few years younger than me, with dark blonde hair and eyes a sort of…ashen color, if I had to categorize it. Finally finding it, I handed him the paper and he checked it.

"You know, I actually know what book this is, and I'm sorry, but we don't carry it. I might be able to order it, though." He handed the paper back to me. "Want to see how long it would take?"

"I'm assuming weeks, judging by what I've found online," I replied, shaking my head. "It seems to be highly in demand and hard to find."

"Yeah, sometimes that happens. If you'd like, I can—oh, wait, you know what?" The man tilted his head in thought. "I may actually…yeah…hang on a second, stay here." He ran off and I smiled, admiring his broad shoulders from behind.

I passed the next few minutes by flipping through a book on how to get a job in the graphic design industry, finding the whole thing quite boring, until a hand tapped my shoulder again. I set the book back on the shelf and turned to see the man grinning triumphantly, holding the book up just underneath his chin.

"You _had_ one?" I knew the excitement in my voice was showing, and made no effort to conceal it. As I took the book from him our fingers touched, and my smile grew wider.

"Someone ordered it like, three months ago, and never picked it up. I just remembered I was supposed to clean out the hold shelves last week, but I got busy and then forgot, so I guess my forgetfulness is your gain." His eyes were twinkling and I nodded.

"Thank you _so_ much. He's really gonna love this."

"Brother? Dad?"

"Uh." I glanced down at the book, my eyes following the bright patterns of the cover. "Boyfriend, actually."

"Oh, that's great! I'm glad I could make you happy today." As I looked up to smile at him, I noticed his cheeks were bright pink. "I mean, I'm glad I could satisfy you—er, uh, help you out, I mean, yeah, that's it," he babbled. I chuckled and stuck my hand out, taking his.

"North."

"Wash," he responded with a quick shake of his head.

"Your nametag says David on it," I said, noticing it for the first time.

"Oh, uh, yeah, that's actually my name. Wash is a nickname."

"Interesting nickname."

"So is North, assuming that's not your real name."

"Fair point." I laughed. "Anyway, yes, I will buy this and get out of your hair."

"Great!" He took the book away and headed for the front counter, and I followed a bit behind him. After he rung it up and I paid, I watched him put it in a bag and hand it to me, our fingers touching again. I smiled and nodded at him, putting my wallet back in my pocket.

"Thanks again, Wash."

"Not a problem, glad it all worked out." He grinned and pushed some hair out of his eyes. "Come back soon, all right?"

"I will." I walked towards the door and paused for a moment, debating going back, and when I turned around, he was standing right behind me, his cheeks pink again.

"Hey, I was, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime?" he asked, handing me a business card from the front counter. I took it and saw that he'd written his name and number on the back. "I mean, I know you said you have a boyfriend, but I'm not hitting on you, I just—we could be friends, right? I don't have a lot of friends, but you seem cool, and I know this seems weird but—"

"I'll call you," I said, nodding. He grinned and pat me on the shoulder.

"See you later." Before I could say anything else, he was running towards the back, leaving me to stare down at the card, re-reading his name written in careful block lettering.

* * *

I couldn't get York away from the book long enough to even make out, which was saying something.

"You've been reading that all night, it's nearly midnight. I thought we were going to fool around," I complained, knowing I was whining but not really caring.

"Five more minutes."

"That's what you said an hour ago. And half an hour ago. And _five minutes ago_." I leaned over and snaked my hand underneath the blankets, dancing my fingers along his stomach. Somehow he continued reading, only snickering as my hand reached the waistband of his boxers, pulling them away.

"Seriously, just another minute. I only have a few pages of this chapter left."

"Mmhmm." I continued playing with the short hairs just below the waistband, slipping my hand between his thighs to caress the underside of his quickly-stiffening dick.

_That_ got York's attention.

The book was on the bedside table and his mouth on mine in seconds, nipping at my lower lip as he reached down to shove his boxers down around his knees. I laughed and moved my hand up, stroking roughly as he moaned into my mouth, his hands frantically working to get my shirt out of the way, yanking it up over my shoulders. I had to pull my hand away to get the shirt off and he groaned, reaching down to start stroking himself as I got undressed, my own cock already hard and aching.

"What got _you_ so horny?" he asked in a hoarse voice, watching as I began to dig in the bedside table drawer for lube.

"Nothing, I just—it's been a while, you know?"

"A week, sure, I know. I've just been crazy busy with work, and—"

"Shh, not right now," I interrupted, pouring a little of the lube from the small bottle into the palm of my hand, tossing the bottle back in the drawer as I started fisting my own cock, getting it slick enough. York moaned loudly as he jerked himself and I crawled across the bed, straddling him, touching our cocks together. I shoved his hand away and replaced it with my wet palm, applying to rest of the lube to him, then took both of our cocks in hand, wrapping my fingers around both of them, slowly sliding my hand up and down. The friction was smooth and I bucked against my own hand, unable to control myself.

"_Fuck_, that's amazing," I heard York say between groans, and I glanced up at his face to see his eyes rolled back in his head, his hands fisted in the sheets, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck. I kept up the pace for a few minutes, alternating going a little slower just before getting rougher, and I knew I wasn't going to last much longer at the rate we were going.

"York—_fuck_, I can't, I—"

"I know," I heard him murmur as he pushed me off of him, and as I landed on my back I felt his strong hands grab my hips, pulling me back down closer to him. His lips were wrapped around my cock a second later, sucking lightly, and I could feel his tongue rubbing small circles around the tip every time he moved towards the top. I managed to get a glimpse of York getting himself to the edge as I started moaning his name, and it didn't take much more until I was coming in his mouth, feeling his throat working to swallow. As I came down into post-orgasm bliss I heard him groan, saying my name as he came into his hand, sighing with relief a moment later.

"See, wasn't that worth putting the book down for?" I whispered, twitching as his fingers brushed against the now-sensitive head of my dick. He chuckled and grabbed my shirt from where it had fallen next to us, wiping his hand clean as I groaned with disgust.

"Dude, that's my _shirt_!"

"You don't need it anymore, we're already in bed," York said with a grin, tossing it to the floor. He scooted up and we kissed as he adjusted his body to snuggle up against my own.

"Yeah, true, but _still_."

"You'll get over it."

We lay like that for a few minutes and eventually I heard his breathing even out as he drifted off to sleep, his legs twitching slightly like they always did during deep sleep. I smiled and tilted my chin just enough to kiss his forehead.

* * *

"Thanks again for actually calling," Wash said as we sat down, trays in hand. I grabbed my empty drink cup and reached over, picking his up.

"Soda?"

"Pepsi."

"Be right back." I headed for the soda machine and filled them up, sneaking a look over at Wash, who had already started eating his sandwich. I popped lids onto the cups and carried them over, setting his drink on the tray in front of him.

"Thanks!"

"No problem. And of course I called. I could use more friends," I said, smiling as I picked up my own sandwich.

"Really? A guy like you, I figured you'd have _tons_ of friends."

"Well, I know a lot of people, but I'm not close with most of them."

Wash shrugged. "That's cool. I meet a lot of people at work, but I don't really have too many friends yet. I just moved here a few months ago."

"Oh, really? Where from?"

He swallowed a bite of sandwich and smiled. "Montana, actually. Nice little town up in the mountains. I kind of miss it."

"Hopefully you find stuff to like here just as much," I said, taking another bite. I caught a look on his face as he mumbled something, grabbing his drink. "What?"

"Yeah, I think I will," he said more clearly, focusing on his sandwich. I chuckled and continued eating, trying to avoid looking him in the eye.

* * *

"So, did you want to do anything, or do you have to get home?" Wash asked as we dumped our trays of trash in the trashcan near the door. I took his try and stacked it with mine, then pushed the door open, gesturing for him to go first.

"Actually, I thought I would introduce you to my boyfriend," I replied, watching his face for a reaction. His lips were set in a straight line and he appeared to be neutral to the idea.

"Sure, are we meeting him somewhere?"

"Yeah, he's having coffee with a client nearby, so I told him we'd swing by after lunch."

"Oh. Sounds good." Wash waited for me to start walking so I did, leading him towards the coffee shop that was a few blocks away. I'd picked the lunch spot on purpose, knowing it was near where York would be. "So what do you do in your free time?" he asked, kicking a rock on the ground.

I watched it bounce ahead of us and come to a halt in the gutter. "Not much. Read, watch TV, the usual. You?"

"Read, mostly. That's why I'm glad I work at the bookstore—I can get advance copies of books and that's basically my job to tell people what's good. It's pretty much my dream job."

"Are you a writer?"

"Nah," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "I tried that once—turns out writing isn't my strong suit. I actually have a business degree, and want to own my own bookstore someday."

"Really!" I glanced sideways at him and saw that he was grinning proudly. "That's a great idea."

"I've got a business plan and everything, just working out some details."

"Man, I wish I had that much drive. I actually_ want_ to be a writer, but I do copy-editing to get my foot in the door. I told myself I'd write a book years ago, but all I have is the title."

"Which is?"

"Not telling," I said, winking at him. "Gotta keep that secret so you don't steal it."

"Aw, come on!" He reached over and lightly punched my arm. "You can trust me."

"I barely know you!"

"Come on, are you saying you can't trust this face?" He stopped walking and I turned to see him pointing at his cheeks, puffing them up, his eyes bright with amusement. I laughed and shook my head.

"I don't know _what_ to think with _that_ face," I replied, rolling my eyes. We kept walking as he babbled on about books, though I was sort of tuning him out.

I'd barely just met him, but I could tell I _could _trust him already. There was just something about Wash that made me feel instantly comfortable around him, and I liked it. I really hoped York would feel the same way.

* * *

"I brought pizza!"

"_Please_ tell me you got—"

"Half pepperoni and sausage, half pineapple, with olives on the side," Wash said automatically, cutting York off as he set the box down on the kitchen table. "Good lord, I know the order by now. Besides, even if I forgot they have it on file at the store."

"Thanks," York said, grabbing a slice of pineapple as he reached for the container of olive slices. He grabbed a few and sprinkled them on as I wrinkled my nose.

"One, that's disgusting, and two, why not just get pineapple and olive together?" I asked.

"Because it's more fun to just put the olives on there myself," York replied, waving the slice in my face. I groaned and backed away, heading over to the couch with a slice of pepperoni, picking off the sausage to eat individually. "Why don't _you_ just order pepperoni if you're just gonna pick off the sausage every time?"

"Why, do you want me to eat _your_ sausage?" I teased. York laughed and walked over, giving me a kiss.

"Maybe," he whispered in my ear. I glanced over to Wash, who was still standing at the table, peeling himself off a slice, apparently ignoring us. I knew he'd heard us though, since his cheeks were slightly flushed.

"Well, maybe later," I whispered back, winking. York grinned and took a bite of his slice, chewing in what he probably hoped was a seductive manner. Instead, he really just looked like a cow chewing cud.

"Please, stop. You're making me ill."

"Ill with _passion_."

"No, just _ill_." I pushed him away half-heartedly and he walked back over to Wash, slapping him on the back.

"Want a beer?" Wash called out, wincing at the slap.

"Sure," I shouted back, trying to one-handedly open the DVD case to get the movie ready. Wash came over a moment later, three beers dangling from his hand, and set them on the table, grabbing the case from me.

"Good lord, I've got it."

I sat on the couch, finishing my slice of pizza, settling back to watch Wash pop the DVD in the player. He grabbed the remote and a beer and settled in on my left as York came over, sitting on my other side. I grabbed the remote from Wash and hit the play button, snuggling up next to York, wrinkling my nose at the smell of olives. His arm was around me a second later, but I didn't feel his hand on my shoulder. I glanced to my left and saw his hand resting lightly on Wash's shoulder, who didn't seem to notice.

* * *

Wash and York got along amazingly from the second they met. It was as if the three of us had been best friends in another life; York teased him almost immediately about his nickname, but Wash fired right back, leaving York dumbfounded that he was able to defend himself. From there it was history, and we started spending nearly all of our time together, usually the three of us. Sometimes one of us was too busy and the other two went off for dinner or a drink or whatever sounded good.

York had come home one night after drinks with Wash, raving about how good he'd been at darts while trying to demonstrate his skills with pencils and a book he'd propped up against the stairwell. I'd been asleep on his couch, tired from unpacking boxes (I was in the process of moving in, since my lease was nearly over and I spent most of my time at York's house anyway), and wasn't really in the mood to listen to stories.

Part of me was worried, however, because the _way_ he talked about Wash…it was slightly unsettling. It reminded me of the same way I used to talk about _York_, and that bothered me more than I cared to admit out loud.

* * *

"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?" I asked York when the movie was over and Wash was on the floor, putting the disc away in the case.

"Actually, I gotta get going," Wash interrupted, getting to his feet, movie in hand. "I've gotta get to the bookstore early for inventory, so you don't have to go talk in private. I'll just head out."

"Oh, okay." I went over and gave him a hug, not squeezing as tightly as I usually did. I think he noticed and I could tell he hesitated slightly before patting me on the back, pulling away. He waved to York, who was busy shoving a cold slice of pizza in his mouth, and left, closing the door behind him.

"What's up?" York asked, his mouth full of pizza. I shook my head and walked over to him, kissing him on the cheek.

"I just wanted to talk to you about something," I said, trying to gather up my courage as I sat at the table, drumming my fingers on the surface. He reached over a second later and rested his hand on mine, stopping the noise as he swallowed.

"Should I be sitting down?" he asked.

I shook my head again. "No, it's just…it's nothing, never mind."

"C'mon, you're obviously bothered about something. Out with it. Or I'll find a way to get it out of you," he said with a grin, leaning down to kiss my neck.

"York, stop." He pulled back, a frown on his face, and I sighed. "It's about Wash."

"What about him?" He seemed unfazed.

"I don't know. I've just…I noticed you had your hand on his shoulder earlier, and I know it's probably nothing, but it just sort of seemed weird. That's all."

"Is that what this is about?" York laughed suddenly and I frowned, confused.

"Why are you laughing?"

"North, come on. I can't believe you don't get it."

"Get _what_?"

York laughed again as he reached up, placing his hands on either side of my face. "John, I love you, but you're really oblivious sometimes."

I wasn't sure which part of his sentence to focus on, either the declaration of love or the insult to my capacity to observe my surroundings. In the end I went with blurting out "I love you too, you jerk."

York continued grinning and leaned in to kiss me passionately, and I reached up to wind my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. We continued making out for a minute, and I felt him press himself up against my knee. I raised an eyebrow and pulled back, smiling.

"You don't get to do that until you tell me what I'm oblivious to," I warned.

"You can't sit there and tell me you don't feel the same way about Wash," he said quietly, touching his forehead to mine. "It's been _months_ and you _still_ don't see it?"

"See what?" I asked, feeling irritable all of a sudden. "York, I don't—"

"Shh," he whispered, kissing me again. My irritation faded away as I melted against his lips, wondering just what the hell he meant.

* * *

I forgot to press the issue that night, lost in the mind-blowing sex we had at the kitchen table, York bending me over the glass, knowing exactly which buttons of mine to press. We went to bed that night completely worn out, my mind blank, until I randomly thought about Wash, feeling myself drift off to sleep with a smile on my face.


	3. Wash

**Part 3 – Wash **

_When I met North, I was just so excited at the potential of having a new friend, I didn't even think about how cute he was or how I was dying to see how soft his lips were._

_The initial excitement wore off the more we hung out together, because I couldn't nurse a crush like that when he already had a boyfriend. Besides, York was great; if he wasn't, the situation may have been different, but it wasn't worth it to consider possibilities that weren't going to happen._

_But, you know, sometimes you can be totally and completely wrong about things._

* * *

I suck at making friends.

I'm totally awkward. I come off totally awkward and nervous, because I _am_. I can't make small talk to save my life, and the only reason I even _have _friends is because I work in a bookstore and meet people _way_ more interesting than myself.

The moment I met North, though, I swear it was different. It was like _he_ was awkward too, and even though he wasn't, we instantly clicked. Same with York; I think it's something about how the two of them act together that makes me feel at ease. It doesn't hurt that York is also gorgeous, with that sandy brown hair of his, with the little wave on top, and that smile…

Yeah, having friends like them isn't a bad thing at all.

* * *

"I don't want to watch that one again!"

"It's my favorite!"

"We've seen it like three times already. Pick a different one."

"Why are you on _his_ side?"

"I'm not on anyone's side. Just pick a different one."

"Come _on_!"

"If you don't want to, I will!"

"No, _I_ wanna pick!"

York started shuffling through the stack of DVDs, tossing random ones away to the side in what was apparently a 'no go' pile, and North was rolling his eyes, setting a tray with three bowls of ice cream on the table in front of me. I grabbed for one and scooped some onto the spoon, eating it slowly to savor the taste. York had bought the mint chocolate chip flavor I love, and I was going to cherish it.

North sat down next to me and I smiled at him, taking another bite of ice cream. He leaned forward and grabbed one of the bowls, carving a large bite with his spoon and bringing it up to his mouth. I watched as he ate the entire spoonful, flipping the spoon over in his mouth so that he dragged his tongue down as he pulled the spoon out, licked clean.

I must have dropped my spoon; I heard a clattering noise and saw York sit up out of the corner of my eye, glancing my direction. "You okay?" I heard him say, and I nodded, tearing my eyes away from North, who was grinning as he ate another, smaller bite.

York finally chose a romantic drama, which struck me as odd, and stuck the disc in the player, scrambling for his bowl of ice cream that was already beginning to melt. He settled in on my other side and I folded in slightly as I felt his arm brush against mine. Their couch was large enough to fit four people comfortably, but somehow York always found a way to snuggle up against someone. Usually it was North, but tonight it seemed I was the intended target. Not that I was going to complain.

Not five seconds after I shifted my arm away I felt North brushing up against my left side and I hesitated, deciding to stay where I was for the time being. The movie began to play and I turned my attention to the screen, slowly eating my ice cream so it would melt more. I loved eating ice cream when it was more melty than solid.

"Hey," I heard York whisper, and felt North shift slightly, his arm no longer touching mine. I felt almost disappointed as I listened to North whisper back, "Yeah?"

"Do we have any cherries?"

"_You_ did the shopping, not me."

"No, _cherries_," York repeated. I raised an eyebrow; if _I_ could hear him right the first time, surely North did too.

"_Oh_."

They stopped talking after that and I breathed a sigh of relief. A moment later North shifted again and his right leg was suddenly touching mine, pressed firmly against it. I opened my mouth to say something but felt a hand on my right arm. I looked over to see York rubbing my forearm, staring ahead at the screen, obviously pretending to be paying attention.

"Guys?"

Both of them turned to look at me and I shrunk into the couch slightly, overwhelmed with embarrassment from the sudden attention. "What is it, Wash?" York said, and I couldn't bring myself to look him in the face, but he sounded amused.

"Uh…do either of you want to say something?" I had _no_ idea how to bring it up without sounding like a complete idiot, or making a fool of myself.

"I don't know. North, do _you_ want to say anything to Wash?" I was going to punch York in a second.

"Hmm. I don't know, York. Is there something you _want_ me to say?" I heard North reply. Okay, sure, I could punch _him_ first; I didn't need to play favorites.

"Wash, what is it that you want us to say?" York asked.

I shook my head rapidly, overwhelmed with feelings of embarrassment and annoyance at how they were playing this. "Never mind."

"You _did_ say cherries," North said, and I chanced a look up at him. He was smirking. "Didn't we agree that was the code word?"

"Code word?" I echoed. I looked at York, who was smirking.

"I didn't think you were as oblivious as North, but maybe I was wrong," York whispered, leaning forward a few inches so that we were staring at each other.

"York, stop teasing."

"I thought that was the point," he replied, and I scooted back a bit, craning my head back to ask North what was going on.

I never got the chance to ask because a second later North's lips were pressed to mine. They were just as soft as I'd imagined so many times, picturing him kissing all over my body while I masturbated to the thought of him on top of me. Now that it was actually _happening_, I wanted it to stop, just for a second, if only to give me the chance to ask what was going on. Whatever rational thoughts were in my head, however, disappeared the instant I felt someone else's hand rubbing the inside of my right thigh.

"Can't let North have all the fun," I heard York murmur from behind me. North's tongue slipped between my lips and flicked against mine, prompting a moan from deep inside my chest. I didn't know why this was happening, or whether I was dreaming, but I just hoped I wouldn't wake up anytime soon.

Finally North's lips pulled away from mine and I let out an embarrassed whine as he kissed his way down my chin to my neck, sucking at the skin pulled taut as I bucked my hips towards York's hand, which had found its way to my crotch, rubbing frantic circles over my jeans. "Guys—"

"You don't need to say anything," York said near my ear, and I realized my head was thrown back, coming to rest on his shoulder. He shifted underneath me and got off the couch, unfortunately moving his hand away, shoving the coffee table away with his foot. Strong hands slid under my ass and lifted me off the couch, moving me to the rug. I blinked and saw North kneeling over me, unbuttoning his pants, pushing them down around his hips so that I could see the trail of hair disappearing underneath his boxers. All those times I'd imagined him naked, and never had I thought to picture that patch of faint blonde hair.

York moved behind me and no longer was I flat on my back; instead I was propped up against a pillow so that I was sitting up more, and York was settling in next to me. His lips crushed mine a moment later and they tasted faintly of mint ice cream. I sucked at his bottom lip and he groaned, prompting me to do it again just to hear that wonderful sound.

"I thought only _I_ could get that sound out of him," North said from where he was bent over my waist, unbuttoning my jeans. York broke the kiss and chuckled, licking a stripe across the underside of my chin.

"Just having some fun here, babe. Don't be jealous."

"Oh, I'm not _jealous_." North pulled my jeans down, leaving my boxers in place, his hands sliding back up to hook his thumbs in the waistband. He leaned down and pressed his lips to my left hipbone, kissing his way towards my stomach. I shivered as he licked just above the waistband and pulled down the fabric. I heard York huff playfully near my ear as my cock sprang out, already beyond stiff to the point of aching.

"Bigger than I expected," he said, kissing my cheek. I wanted to argue, to laugh, to say _anything_ but all I could do was moan North's name as his mouth took my entire cock, sucking lightly.

My vision whited out for a second as he continued sliding his mouth over the skin, tongue swirling around the shaft, and I thrust up towards him, feeling his hands on my hips a second later, pressing me back down towards the ground. I moaned again and whimpered, wanting less but needing _more_, and when my eyes finally focused I saw York standing to the side, completely naked, lazily stroking his own cock as he watched North blow me.

A moment later North pulled off and smiled up at me, his hand still pumping steadily. "Do you want to switch?" he asked, and I shook my head, wanting him to go back to what he'd been doing.

"I'm—I'm good—"

"You think you want to include York?"

I rolled my head back to York, who arched an eyebrow. "Uh—yeah, I mean, I _do_—"

"It's okay, I'm _totally_ fine watching," York said with a grin, and I heard North chuckle.

"It's not as much fun if it's only two of us."

Before York could reply I put my hands on the floor and pushed myself up to a sitting position, instantly regretting it because it forced North to back up, letting go of me. I reached over and took York's free hand, pulling him down to my level to kiss him, opening my mouth so his tongue could slide in over mine. Keeping my movements slow but steady, I moved one hand down and started stroking his mostly-hard cock, gripping it firmly.

_"Fuck_," I heard North moan from beside us, mixing with a groan from York, who broke the kiss to roll his head back. "Keep doing that."

Loving the encouragement, I kissed York's cheek, moving down his chin to his neck, trailing kisses all along his chest. My hand increased speed just slightly and York began to tremble under my other hand pressed to his chest. His breathing started to become more erratic and I watched him open his eyes, staring down at me with an intensity I'd never thought I'd see from him.

"_North_," he gasped. I felt hands on my waist pulling me back and suddenly I was on my hands and knees, watching as York tossed a pillow in front of me and knelt on it, quickly inserting his cock into my mouth. I gasped around it from the shock but started sucking, reaching up with one hand to stroke his balls, cupping them gently, rubbing a finger along the seam underneath. My efforts were rewarded with a string of curses from York and him thrusting up into my mouth.

Nearly lost in the overwhelming moment, I briefly wondered where North was, reminded a second later as I felt a finger press against my entrance, slowly working its way inside. I cried out, nearly choking on York's cock, and heard North murmuring for me to relax, quickly sliding out and back in with two fingers. York's hands were fisted in my hair, controlling his speed as North continued to stretch me open, his other hand sliding down around my stomach to start pumping my cock again.

I _had_ to be dreaming. I was going to wake up any minute now, drenched in sweat, sheets sticky as usual.

After a few minutes and non-stop amazing throaty moans from York, I felt North pull away and I writhed my hips, needing the contact. I pulled off of York, ignoring his frustrated groans, and glanced back to see North grabbing something out of the small drawer of the end table next to the couch. I watched as he ripped open a condom packet and started rolling it over his own cock, popping open a small bottle of lube to pour a small amount on his palm.

"Are we doing that already?" York asked, and I felt his arms press me down to the floor, laying me on my back.

"I think he's ready," North replied, and I opened my mouth to protest but moaned loudly instead as North's fingers inserted themselves once again inside of me, hitting the sweet spot. A few seconds later and they were replaced by the tip of North's cock, pressing up against my ass, slowly working his way inside. I gasped and squeezed my eyes shut, more from the shock than from any pain, which was really more overwhelming pleasure if I had time to really think about it. I didn't though, because as soon as North was buried inside of me, my legs were being lifted up to hook my ankles over North's shoulders for a better angle.

"Oh _god_," I choked out, thrusting my hips up so that he was forced to push deeper, hitting my prostate at the exact right angle, and I cried out his name, my hands flailing to hold onto something, anything. My fingers touched hair and I grabbed for it, realizing a second later that it was York's, and felt him kiss the tip of my cock, swallowing all of it immediately after, his hand working his own dick as he pumped furiously.

I swear I saw stars.

I tried to control the bucking of my hips, but between North fucking me and York blowing me, I couldn't figure out how to make my limbs work, and ended up kind of writhing around, shouting their names along with a mixture of words that didn't make sense the moment they left my lips. An intense heat began to burn in my stomach and it built to a pitch as I knew I was close, so close, and I didn't know if I was supposed to warn them or just—

"_York_!" I screamed as I came, my hands twisted in his hair, pushing myself up into his mouth, feeling his cheeks puff in and out as he swallowed. He pulled off with a groan as I came down from my high, North still fucking me open, and I watched through hazy eyes as he threw back his head with a moan, his fingers squeezing the tip of his cock, scooting closer as he let go, coming over my stomach in thick squirts, slowly working his cock as he shuddered, eyes closed, finishing loudly.

North was still going, but was thrusting quickly, and I could tell he was about to lose it. York leaned over and grabbed his hair, pulling him in for a rough kiss, and North moaned around his lips as he pushed into me as deep as I could take it, his entire body shaking as he cried out against York's mouth. I could feel the heat from his orgasm and he stayed inside me for a moment, catching his breath. Finally he pulled out and pried the condom away, tying it off and tossing it to the side.

York flopped down onto the floor beside me, breathing heavily, and North sat down, leaning against the couch, grinning over at us.

"Do you still want cherries?" he said quietly, and York burst into tired laughter.

"I think I got Wash's," he replied, nudging me with his arm. I nodded my head, letting out an exhausted chuckle.

"Hope it was tasty." I didn't know what else to say and felt myself flushing instantly as I heard North laugh heartily.

* * *

If that night meant more to me than it did to either of them, they didn't show it. In fact, I think we were finally all on the same page after that.


End file.
